


Reaffirm Life

by Irony_Rocks



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 19:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irony_Rocks/pseuds/Irony_Rocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Storm/Eye. In the end, she just knew one thing for certain. Things were never going to be the same between them after today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaffirm Life

**Title:** Reaffirm Life (COMPLETE)  
 **Pairing:** Sheppard/Weir  
 **Summery:** "She didn't want to think about it too much, couldn't afford her mind to be preoccupied by this on top of everything else today, but there was no avoiding it now."  
 **Warnings:** NC-17, sexual situations and language. This is PWP if I ever saw it.  
 **Spoilers:** The Storm/The Eye  
 **Beta'd:** None.  
 **Author's Notes** : I have no idea where this story came from. I just woke up with the urge to write it and it's whatever is between a fic and a ficlet. *shrugs* Consider it my own addition to a Sparky cliché. It had originally started out as my first attempt at a threesome, but OMG, I can't write threesomes! My mind apparently isn't kinky enough.

I posted it up today, without beta, because a couple of my flisters are having a bad day. *hugs* Fluff would probably be more appropriate, but I figured the three of you (you know who you are) wouldn't mind smut either. Er, hopefully. *slinks away*

 

[  
](http://www.stargatefanawards.com/2007/index.php)  
 **Best Sheppard/Weir PWP Fic**

 

\--x--

Elizabeth remained distant from the others as droplets of water from her soggy BDUs dripped down onto the polished floor of the Control Room. Her clothes itched uncomfortably and even as the strands of her wet hair curled dry in waves, Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from shivering. Today, they had nearly lost their lives and Atlantis to the Genii. Today, Elizabeth had brushed closer to death than she had ever done before.

Today had been a very bad day.

Their small group of seven were now forced to cluster around Command Control. The lightning that charged the shield and protected Atlantis from the storm outside also ensured that the rest of the city was electrified with the same pulsing energy. Elizabeth wanted her bed badly, nearly as much as she longed for a hot shower. Most of all, though, she just wished for a place to be by herself, curl up and allow some of the dread that had coiled tight in her stomach all day long to be released in private.

Her fingers curled white-knuckled around the railing, though, knowing it wasn't an option. Exhausted and emotional spent, she loosened her grip and leaned her arms against balcony railings where her perch gave her a wide view. She could see every one from here. Rodney was typing furiously away at an Ancient console, even with his wounded arm cradled against his chest. Teyla was watching over their newest… _friend,_ Sora. Carson and Ford were bickering back and forth in a manner that she had never seen before, and John… John stood by himself down below in the Gate Room.

He looked up and caught her eye, standing motionless with a long Wraith stunner resting against his shoulder. She tried to smile back, tried to give him the illusion of some reassuring gesture but it probably came out as more of a grimace. The jubilation that they should have felt for surviving such a day was dampened by the sight of the two marines' bodies that had been deposited in the corner of the room. She tossed a small wave down to him, and then slowly pushed off the balcony, quietly headed for her office. The clear glass walls stopped her, though. If she wanted privacy, it wasn't going to be found there.

Instead glancing around to make sure no one was looking, she impulsively veered off to the right, quietly slipping down as far as the corridor could safely take her. She entered the storage closet that lined the hallway at the end. The dark room was filled with two bulky, metal industrial racks side by side, cleaning supplies and some other odd-end equipment that littered the ground. It left much to be desired, but the medium size room provided space - private space - which was all Elizabeth cared about at the moment.

The door slid shut behind her, casting Elizabeth in complete darkness. She burrowed in between the racks and quietly leaned her back against the hard metal, savoring the quiet. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, willing herself to remain poised.

She didn't allow herself to take much time and she couldn't afford to break down right now. Elizabeth knew that until the storm above had passed and her people were all safely back under the strong shelter of the City, she couldn't allow herself the luxury of dealing with whatever emotional toll was supposed to be wrought after an event like today. Right now, Elizabeth could only afford two minutes, maybe three, of blissful silence to calm herself. That was all she needed – all she could take - before she had to be ready to face the others again.

Except the door opened before her three minutes were up, and eyes still closed, Elizabeth tried not to snap at the unwelcomed intrusion. She breathed once deeply, and opened her mouth to tell whoever it was that she was okay - that she just needed a moment, that she would--

Instead, the immediate jolt of a hot mouth covering hers had Elizabeth's eyes flying open in shock.

It was too dark to see and the body that had pressed against her didn't allow her any slack for sight, but she recognized the body with shocking and instant familiarity. John had pushed her back against the racks, not a sliver of space in between them as he angled his mouth over hers in an aggressive kiss, so brutally intense and insistent that Elizabeth did nothing, frozen against the embrace for a second while her mind tried vainly to play catch up. His kiss was shockingly demanding, tongue moving aggressively past her lips as if he had done this a thousand times before to her.

After a moment of blind reaction, she finally remembered herself again and pushed hard against his chest. He didn't budge, but Elizabeth released a sound that was half a protest and half a moan, and she wasn't even sure which one she meant more. Distance was only achieved when John pulled back willingly, drawing away from her with a tug of her bottom lip that had heat pooling through her instantaneously.

"John," she breathed, trying desperately to regroup. "What the hell are you doing?"

He didn't respond. Instead, as if he hadn't even heard her, John moved to nip at the pulse of her neck, his stubble scrapping against her skin in way that sent shivers straight through her even as her body warmed.

"Something stupid," he murmured roughly, cupping the back of her neck with warm hands to keep her pinned to him. She didn't protest, didn't move, the heat and gruffness of his voice unexpectedly and overwhelmingly welcomed. "Something worth it."

He moved up to kiss her again, and the power and speed and heat of it was like lightning. Hard. Fast. Caught up in a whirlwind that echoed the one outside. Elizabeth was pulled under its strength and she didn't know why or how or where this had come from - no, that was a lie. She knew _exactly_ where it had come from, and the sound of John's voice shouting over the radio, the fear in pit of her stomach, the press of Kolya's arm around her body as he dragged her away - the memories all came flooding back to her and suddenly it was too much for her to remember and her mind rebelled.

Her hands threaded through his hair as she pressed herself to him, grinding against him, greedily clutching him in kind, moving her mouth over his as aggressively as he had done hers. The kisses grew frantic and sloppy and in the back of her mind, there was still a part of her trying desperately to wrap her head around the fact that she was heatedly locked in an embrace with her commanding officer _in a storage closet_. The others - dear God - the others were still out there, separated by one thin wall and a sliding door.

"John," she whispered fiercely between frantic kisses. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Shut up, Elizabeth," he muttered in response. "Stop thinking for once."

He pinned her waist against the metal behind her as his fingers worked beneath the elastic of her waistband. Her clothes had still been damp from the rain, and as he tugged her clammy cargo pants down past the swell of her hips, Elizabeth felt relieved to get rid of the material even as her mind still continued to scramble for some shred of protest. This wasn't like them. This was wrong. This was--

The surreal press of John's hard erection against her naked thigh forestalled any further thought. Gasping for breath as they continued to kiss, Elizabeth realized it was already too late. This had progressed too far, too fast, and she couldn't deny that she wanted this, her body and mind already thrumming with the need of it. There was no time for thought or rationale, no moment in between where Elizabeth's normal control could have had the opportunity to reassert itself. Instead, breathless and frantic and needy, the human need to reaffirm life after a near-death experience had battered down any objections she normally would have had.

When his fingers quickly worked under her panties and grazed over her clit, she released a gasp, clutching at the lapels of his jacket as her eyes slipped shut in ecstasy. It had been so long - so very long - since she had felt a man's touch. _Simon._ The name came unbidden to her, but she pushed away the guilt of it when John's fingers slipped inside her, penetrating, crooking in an angle that sent spots of colors flashing against her closed eyelids. Elizabeth whimpered, head flung back as the jolt of euphoria worked through her, dizzy and helpless and entirely overwhelmed.

Pinned hard against the racks behind her, Elizabeth desperately clutched at the shelves behind her, her fingers threading through the holes of the metal grid that formed the surface. She was acutely aware of John's eyes searching her face as the flickers of euphoria passed across, the moment where he leaned forward to run his tongue across a patch of her skin, when he shifted his weight against her to penetrate her at a different angle.

"Jesus, John," she moaned.

His ragged breath playing warmth across her face and neck as he leaned over her body, Elizabeth was unable to do anything but desperately hold on while she rode the pleasure. Her fingers turned white with strain as they curled tightly around the metal meshwork, all the while John's own fingers worked inside of her, wide and rough and just as demanding as his kisses had been. She came within seconds, the orgasm hitting hard, as hard as everything else she had felt on this godforsaken day, stealing her breath and ripping a sob from her throat before she could stop it.

"Shh," John mumbled against her neck, clutching her body as it went slack. "I've got you. I've got you."

She nodded, because today of all days, the words rang true in a way that was undeniable. As she got her breathing under control, John was already busy quietly unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly on his pants. Neither made the move to remove their other clothing. Still half dressed, half damp with rain, when John pressed closer, bracing his hands on either side of her, Elizabeth could sense the thrum of impatience and desperation in him.

Today had been too many firsts for her, too many of them gut-wrenching moments that had seemed like the end of everything. She had never experienced something like today before, nothing even close. In the brief lapse afforded in that split-second as John resettled in against her, insinuating himself between her legs, Elizabeth suddenly realized that as experienced as John was, today had shook him just as badly.

She found dark comfort in that thought, felt closer to John for that connection than because of the physical jolt of pleasure he had just given her. He must have seen it in her eyes, in the way she was looking at him with comprehension dawning on her face, because as impatient as he had been to bury himself inside of her, he suddenly stilled in the last second.

"What?" he breathed.

She cupped his face against the splay of her palm, the gesture intimate - somehow more intimate than everything else they had been doing. He closed his eyes, turned his face into her palm, and breathed in deeply. When he shuddered her name in a low voice, half of it broken, she suddenly realized he was taking in the scent of her, and even covered with the damp smell of rain and fear, she knew she must have been everything in that moment that he needed to take in.

He thought she had died today. She understood, rather belatedly, that this had affected him more than she had first presumed. She had never seen John Sheppard like this before - frantic and raw, possessive in this way. He was always so calm and collected in the midst of a crisis, so unshakeable.

He was shaking now.

"John," Elizabeth breathed, the word choked.

He paused for a second and then, slowly, when Elizabeth made no move of her own, he leaned in to seize her lips again. This kiss was softer, gentler - it allowed Elizabeth to get her bearings in this dangerous, new territory that for reasons passing comprehension, she hadn't stopped.

It _still_ left her scrambling for control, because the heat of this kiss was slow and sensuous, tempered and probing instead of demanding and needy, it managed to melt the ice in her chest that had seized hold of her the entire day. This kiss was still raw, alarmingly desperate, but her body reacted quicker this time, more attuned to John and his demands.

John's lips were still pressed firmly against hers when he first slid inside of her, so overwhelming that Elizabeth broke off the kiss with a gasp. John Sheppard was not a small man, not that she had thought otherwise but she had neither the time nor opportunity to study him before he pushed inside of her. It had been too dark and they had been too close but, dear god, he felt so good. Her fingers threaded through the metal meshwork again, and she pulled herself up slightly, allowing him a better angle, better leverage for him to penetrate inside of her. She wrapped a leg around his waist and he pulled out and thrust back in, his hands settled low on her hips. The sensation grounded her, even as it made her body spiral out of control.

He quickly found a rhythm that left them both panting, aching, desperate and needy. He groaned as he continued to push inside of her, whispering her name and words like _need_ and _god_ and _fuck_ in a voice so low and raw that she couldn't even recognize it.

As he pushed in and out of her, Elizabeth was acutely aware of the need to keep her strangled voice hushed. She wanted to moan, wanted to be given the freedom to breathe his name, wanted to be able to _scream_ if she desired, but the knowledge that the others were close by silenced her voice. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and apart from the sounds of ragged breathing and the thud of two bodies against each other as he continued to push in and out of her, the room was completely dark and silent.

John's hands held her in place and Elizabeth knew from the first moment that this was going to be fast and hard and John wouldn't be able to hold himself back for much longer. She didn't care because she was already ready again - caught on the brink of another looming orgasm as he filled her senses completely.

He slipped his hand under her blouse to trail up and cup her breast, and she couldn't take the added sensation, needed to fight for control over her own body. It was all too crazy for words, but Elizabeth realized that they were fucking with half their clothes on in a supply closet, intensely aware of the people not far from them. They couldn't do all the things they desired, couldn't take nearly as much time as they craved, but Elizabeth found that she had never been more turned on in her entire life.

Half an hour ago, she had been leaning against the railings and looking down at him, and now he was buried deep inside of her. Too much. Too fast. Everything was too overwhelming.

She never wanted it to end.

That was of course when it did, with an orgasm that hit her with twice the force of the one before. John covered her mouth with his own to absorb the sound of her sob, but the muffled noise was as loud as her thudding heart to her own ears. He continued to drive into her, forcing her pleasure to roll and ride out as he continued the rhythm. His kiss and the added thrusts made her breathless and delirious, caught on an extended wave of the orgasm.

Her muscles twitched and trembled around him until she felt his release fill her without the constraint of the normal condom. He released a strangled sound, half her name and half something else and Elizabeth didn't care in that moment if the entire galaxy heard him, because his voice like that, saying her name, was a thing of beauty that melted her spine.

In the aftermath, as they both got their breathing under control, John leaned against her, his face buried in the crock of her shoulder. His hands were braced on either side of her - as it had been since the beginning - and Elizabeth wasn't sure how to move from her place, pinned beneath him against the racks. She wasn't even sure she wanted to, but she couldn't see his face and the aftermath of an orgasm hadn't removed any of the doubt and uncertainty that was lingering in her mind.

His voice in the darkness, then, surprised her. "I thought I had lost you," he whispered hoarsely, as if the words had been an explanation for everything that had just happened. And it was, she realized, because she understood it in a way that didn't need any further explanation.

She opened her mouth to respond, but a loud knock at the door jarred both of them. "Elizabeth? John?" Carson's voice came through, concerned and coated with anxiousness. "You two alright in there?"

"Uh, yeah," John replied quickly, head snapping up. He recovered and tried for a more casual tone. "We're fine. Just talking."

"Oh, well Rodney needs to talk to you about something!" Carson hollered back. "Whenever you're done talking? He's becoming a wee bit of a handful out here."

"Will do," John answered for them, as Elizabeth's throat was still closed off with horror.

If Carson had decided to forgo his manners and had entered the closet without knocking... This had been reckless. Too reckless.

"Alright, then," Carson replied, then paused. He continued awkwardly, "You sure you two are alright in there?"

John took a deep breath. "Yes, Carson." He turned to her and rolled his eyes, suddenly grinning wickedly. "We're just fine."

Despite herself and the inappropriateness of the situation - or perhaps simply because of it, Elizabeth had to turn away because she was overcome with the unholy urge to grin back. This wasn't funny, she told herself. Wasn't even in the same universe as "comical." She pulled away from him as Carson uttered his goodbye, extricating herself from their tangled limbs.

As she reached for her underwear, tugging down self-consciously at the edge of her shirt, John spoke up from behind. "Elizabeth?"

She reluctantly turned around and forced herself to remain poised as their eyes met. "Yeah?"

He paused, licking his lips. "Are we..." he began, trying to be casual about it, but that was nigh next to impossible under the circumstances. He sighed, the anxiousness bleeding through in his voice. "Are we okay? I know I was... I didn't mean to force you--"

"You didn't," Elizabeth cut in quickly, reassuring. "God, John, of course you didn't."

John sighed, shoulders sagging as he closed his eyes. "Still, I could have been better about... it's just sometimes I..." he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it.

She couldn't help but fill in the blank, attempting to maintain her most innocent voice. "Your enthusiasm gets away from you?"

He threw her a dirty look for that one, eyes narrowing even as his lips twitched upward in faint amusement. "Something like that," he remarked in a wry voice.

She quickly tugged on her pants. "Look, we should get back out there. I don't want Rodney coming over. I doubt he'd bother to knock--"

"Elizabeth," he stopped her. "Are we okay?"

The question was a loaded one. She didn't know what the answer should have been. Whether this entire tryst in the storage closet was just some desperate fuck in the aftermath of chaos - something that would be done once and never again. It would be easier that way - better, in fact. Except she couldn't help but think it was something else entirely, something that hinted at emotions that had been buried and growing beneath the surface for the past six months. Something that had swelled up and had broken loose like a falling dam after today's events.

This was probably the most reckless thing Elizabeth had ever done in her life - second only, of course, to purchasing a one-way ticket to an unknown galaxy, but god, it had felt good. Too good. Too right for something that should have been nothing but wrong. She had thought about this before - who wouldn't with a man like John Sheppard? But the passing daydreams and fantasies were never supposed to come to reality. This was never supposed to happen.

She didn't want to think about it too much, couldn't afford her mind to be preoccupied by this on top of everything else today, but there was no avoiding it now.

In the end, she just knew one thing for certain. Things were never going to be the same between them after today.

\--x--

____spacer____ 


End file.
